


Be a Man

by littlesaurus



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Emotionally Repressed, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:00:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesaurus/pseuds/littlesaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-312 'Survival of the Fittest' angst, because I didn't feel like there was enough Ian/Mickey screen time (as usual).</p><p>Mickey after Ian and Mandy leave his room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be a Man

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if this is any good, I've never written Shameless characters before and I kind of quickly wrote it in a sad haze after the season finale. This is the first fanfic I've written in years and the first fic I've written on Ao3, but I don't mind if you hate it...it's a bit sad. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't claim to own any plots or characters or anything at all associated with Shameless (UK or US), and I don't profit from this story in any way.

“You're a fucking pussy”

He heard her and Ian leave, the front door slamming shut behind them.

She was right. His little sister was right. He was a goddamn pussy.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

He didn't know how. He couldn't speak words that meant anything, that showed who he was or what he felt. He didn't even know the language. All he knew was what he had be taught by his father. That it was weak. That men acted and didn't pansy the fuck around chit-chatting about what it all meant. 

He was a man. So why, right now, did he feel like a scared little boy?

Mickey realised that maybe, somewhere in his fathers twisted and beer soaked brain, maybe there was something that had it right. Men did stuff. They got what they wanted and needed and fucked the consequences. And right now what he needed was for Gallag-, no, Ian not to join the stupid fucking army and leave for four years, or maybe never come back at all. People died in the Army. Sure, the streets in their neighbourhood weren't much safer, but fuck, at least there it was usually the Milkovitch's doing the hurting and Mickey could watch the redhead's back. And even if he didn't die, who would come back to this shit-hole, where people like Mickey and his father and fucking Frank Gallagher were there to fuck your life up over and over again? 

Ian was too smart for that. And Mickey was pretty certain he'd crushed any optimism that the freckly kid had left in him after growing up a Gallagher. The optimism that made him resilient enough to stick with Mickey for so long.

Mickey threw a punch at his pillow but it lacked any commitment. Instead he just curled himself around it and lay there in his darkening room, tears leaking across the ridge of his nose. No matter how hard he pressed his palms into his eye sockets they wouldn't stop. Instead it just made circles of light float across his vision, as if he'd been the one sucking up nitrous.  
Except he didn't feel like laughing. Eventually he even gave up trying not to cry.

-

Fuck.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He usually couldn't without a shit tonne of weed or a hard fucking. He had just blacked out lying there, crying like a little bitch over the dude he wanted but didn't have the balls to stop from leaving.

But he wanted to try. At least more than a single broken word that lacked any force. He needed to show Gallagher that 'don't' wasn't a question, that if he was so ready to go get bossed around by guys with muscles and then get blown up then he could stay right here. Mickey was always up for bossing and blowing.

Men did stuff. If Mickey knew nothing else, he knew he was a man. He liked having his cock sucked far too much not to be.

He pulled on a sweatshirt and stomped into the lounge room to grab his phone. Mandy was sitting on the couch getting stoned, already so baked that she took a moment to register his presence.

“Since when do you wake up before midday, dickwad?”

Mickey set his jaw.

“Since I'm gonna stop Gallagher from leaving”

His sisters face went unusually still and Mickey felt himself freeze too.

Her voice was gravelly when she spoke again and it wasn't from the smoke.

“He's gone Mick. He left an hour ago...you're too fucking late”

In that moment Mickey hated himself more than he ever had before, even more than he had after kicking Ian's face in. Suddenly he hated Ian too, hated him for leaving, hated him so much that his insides burned with it, even though he knew it was all his fault.

When the hate burned itself out he was still standing in his living room, his sister repeating a name that didn't even sound like his.


End file.
